Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“I’m sure he’s doing fine.”
I smiled and gave a slight nod. I was sure he was doing fine as well. I was just nervous about what was about to be revealed.
What it might mean for Roy.
I loved Roy Wolfe. I loved him more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. I wanted the best for him. I wanted him free from pain. I wanted whatever had been tormenting him out of his head.
He deserved to live a normal life. Well, as normal a life as any heir to a fortune could live. Together, though, he and I could be happy. Have something close to normal. Next to normal, at least.
I bit my lip, picked up my phone, read through a few emails, and then grabbed another magazine.
Dr. Woolcott had promised to stay as late as necessary tonight.
I had a feeling I’d be here for a while.
52
Roy
Get in.
That voice again. The voice that was mine but not mine.
Get in.
Get in the elevator.
I looked at my palm. The burn from the key had miraculously healed.
Get in.
I walked forward. One. Two. Three steps. Then one more. I stood, steel walls on three sides. And the doors closed slowly, slowly, slowly.
Now what?
The panel had only one button. The red one. The one you pressed in an emergency.
The one I’d pressed when…
When…
When…
Press the button.
Press the button.
Press the button.
My hand shook as I lifted it to the red button pulsing along with my heart.
I pressed it.
“Fuck!” I screamed.
My body plunged along with the steel trap that encased me. My stomach rose through my body, lodging in my throat.
The boxes. The dolly. I remembered.
They were there. One had been smashed open, and files were strewn over the floor.
I stood, fighting off the shivers, and picked up the files, placing them back in the carton.
Then the doors parted.
And—
I shot my eyes open.
“Mr. Wolfe?”
I turned toward the voice. Dr. Woolcott’s face was a blur. The whole room was a blur.
And I remembered.
I fucking remembered.
“A woman. Very young. Blond. She was naked. Her skin was… She’d been cut. Cuts on the top of her breasts, trickles of red blood oozing down over her nipples. Her…
How could I have forgotten this?
“Easy,” Dr. Woolcott said. “Take it slowly.”
“My father’s office. I was taking cartons of files down to the lower level for storage. I was eighteen. No, nineteen, doing an internship. The elevator stopped. Then the shaft broke, and it fell. It fell. But LL was the lowest level in the building. I know it went down. I don’t understand. I don’t…”
“Maybe there was a floor below the lowest floor,” the doctor said.
“Yeah. Yeah, there must have been.”
“Tell me more about the girl.”
“She was young, I think. Around my age. Maybe even younger. She gasped. She was saying ‘Help me. Please help me.’”
Then…blank.
“I don’t remember anything after that.” I rubbed my forehead. “Damn! The woman! What happened to the woman?”
“Concentrate. Do you want to go back under?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s the only way.”
No barriers this time. The elevator doors opened as I collected the strewn files.
A naked woman ran toward me. “Help me! Please, help me!”
“What? Who are you?” I looked into the dark hallway. “Where is this?”
“Please.” She gulped, tears streaming down her face. “Get me out of here.” She frantically pushed buttons on the panel.
“Damn it! Shut, you fucking door. Shut!”
The doors didn’t move. I quickly removed my shirt and wrapped it around her shoulders, her blood soaking into the stark white fabric. She was shivering, so frightened.
“What happened to you?” I asked.
“Just get me out of here. Get me out of here!”
This time I began punching at the buttons. Move, damn it. Move!
Then footsteps.
“No!” She gasped. “No! They’re coming.”
“Who? Who’s coming?”
“They want to… They tried to…” She burst into sobs. “Please. Please get me out of here!”
Then a voice. “We know you’re around here somewhere, bitch. Don’t try to hide.”
I knew that voice.
That voice had been raised to me many times.
My father.
“Who are you?” I said. “What did he do to you?”
“Not he. They. They’re going to kill me. Please, get me out of here.”
“I’m trying.”
“It’s a game,” she said. “They’re playing a game.”
A game? My father? They? Who were the others?
“What kind of game?”
“A hunting game. And I’m the prey.”
My eyes shot open once more. “God, I remember now. I remember.”
“Take it slow, Mr. Wolfe. What do you remember?”
Get out of here! This has nothing to do with you! Go do your sissy art!
“My father. He came running through the dark hallway, and behind him was…” I gulped. “Our priest. Father Jim.”
53
Charlie
Roy’s eyes were circled with shadows when he emerged from Dr. Woolcott’s office.
“We need to get everyone together,” he said to me. “Now.”
I nodded. I didn’t even think of questioning him. His eyes were dead serious.
An hour later we were back in the conference room where we’d sat during the afternoon to get Lacey’s news about Zinnia.